


Round and Round

by 26stars



Series: How I Met Melinda [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU August, AU Meeting, F/F, I guess..., Kiss Prompt List, Shield-Free AU, low-key mayskye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 12:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: "A burden shared is a burden halved..."Kiss prompt #23:Hand/wrist kiss +AU prompt: "I see you got stood up and I feel bad for you so let’s have a drink"





	Round and Round

**Author's Note:**

> This AU prompt has been sitting in my WIP folder since August last year. Finally got some inspiration with one of my kiss prompts on tumblr to get it done.

“Hey.”

Melinda looks up from her drink, making immediate, forceful eye contact with the girl sitting at the bar a few feet away.

“Can I help you?”

The young woman appears to be in her late twenties, with dark makeup and darker, chin-length hair. She doesn’t seem put off by Melinda’s glare, holding her gaze and raising her glass.

“I know we don’t know each other, but I just…I’m planning to be here awhile, and you’ve been here awhile, and it would be nice to not drink alone. You want to sit with me?”

Melinda remains motionless in her chair. “I don’t really feel like talking.”

The girl props one elbow on the bar, staring her down with a confidence that doesn’t seem entirely liquid-induced. “Not even a little?”

Melinda hesitates for a moment, then wordlessly pushes out the other chair at her table with her toe.

“Maybe a little.”

The girl joins her immediately, bringing with her the tall glass she was sipping from—an L.I. tea, it looks like. She seems steady enough on her feet, but Melinda can see from the slowness of her blinking that she must already have at least one glass already in her.

“I’m Daisy,” the girl says as she sits down, crossing her legs at the knee. Her black jeans are ripped in several places.

“Melinda.”

The girl leans back in her chair and reaches for her drink again. “Were you waiting for someone, Melinda?”

“Kind of,” she answers, looking away. “But I came knowing he wouldn’t show up.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because he died six months ago,” Melinda says flatly, meeting the girl’s eyes again with a challenge in her gaze.

_Come on, ask me how. Ask me who. I dare you._

She must be drunker than she realized, if she actually is hoping the girl won’t bolt.

Daisy does look a little startled, but she doesn’t run.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding sincere. “That’s terrible. Was he your boyfriend?”

“Old friend,” Melinda says, looking down again and thumbing at the condensation on her own glass. “He and I were in the Navy together, went through tons of dangerous stuff over the years and never got killed. Then he got sick last year. Twenty-plus years on the field couldn't take him down…then along came cancer. He was gone in four months.”

The girl’s silence doesn’t sound frightened, it sounds respectful.

“I’m really sorry,” she finally says, and Melinda sees her hand flutter in her direction before resting soundly on the table again.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, looking up. “What’s your story? Tough week?”

Daisy smirks, looking away and shaking her head. “Tough years. Tough day. This is the third anniversary of my mom dying.”

Melinda purses her lips sadly. “Those days aren’t easy.” _And they don’t get easier._ “Do you want to talk about it?”

The girl shakes her head. “No. It’s a rotten story. She was kind of crazy, had an episode, tried to kill me, and then my dad killed her to protect me, so he’s in prison now. Like I said. Tough day, tough years.”

Melinda’s own silence is stunned. _And I thought my family had problems._

“I need another one—can I get your next one?” Daisy says suddenly, shaking the ice in her now-empty glass. Surprised by the offer, Melinda shakes her head.

“How about I get yours?”

“I won’t say no to that,” the girl says, setting her glass down again. “Long Island iced tea.”

_Called it._

“Be right back.”

The conversation is less heavy through the next round of drinks—after sharing their darkest stories already, no other topic seems quite as sensitive. Melinda feels the edges softening on everything as she downs her third drink, but eventually she cuts herself off, reminding herself that she drove here and doesn’t have anyone in town who could pick her up. Daisy doesn’t seem to have any intention of stopping though, so Melinda eventually puts a hand on her arm when she tries to get up for another round.

“Do you have someone who can pick you up?” she says, trying not to sound patronizing. “At this rate, you won’t be driving any sooner than dawn.”

“I live in my car,” the girl answers with a wave of her hand. Her words are slightly slurred. “So technically I can walk home.”

Surprised, Melinda releases her arm, though Daisy stays in her seat. “You been living like that for a while?”

“A few years,” the girl shrugs. “Cheap rent, good mobility. And California is pretty accommodating for it.”

“Well, I’m done,” Melinda says, putting a hand over her glass. “I still need to drive home.”

“You could always stay with me,” Daisy says, that daring gleam back in her eye.

Melinda shakes her head. “You’re a little too drunk for me to trust that invite.”

“I’m perfectly lucid, thank you,” the girl says, crossing her arms. “Ask me anything.”

“What’s your license plate number?”

“Well that’s none of your damn business isn’t it?” Daisy says, narrowing her eyes.

“I want to make sure I get you to the right car, kid,” Melinda says, mirroring the look.

Daisy raises an eyebrow, though her arms remain folded.

“1MSP084.”

Melinda nods, getting to her feet.

“I’ll close out our tabs and then I’m taking you home.”

Daisy is still steady enough on her feet as she climbs down from her stool a few minutes later, but Melinda still feels the need to slip an arm around her and make sure of it. Daisy directs her out the bar and down the street to an alley that looks totally empty, and at first, Melinda thinks she must actually be so drunk that she’s forgotten where her car is. But then she squints into the shadows of the building and sees a black van. Plate number 1MSP084.

“Well thanks for the date,” Daisy says, suddenly turning towards Melinda and wrapping her in a surprisingly tight hug. “Sure I can’t offer you a sofa to crash on?”

Melinda doesn’t return the hug except for with the arm already around Daisy’s waist, but she doesn’t push her away either.

“That van doesn’t look built for two,” she mutters. “But if you want, I can drive it to my place and you can crash in my guest room tonight.”

“You’re awfully trusting of a drunk stranger in a bar,” Daisy mutters as she pulls away and fumbles for her keys.

Melinda glances at her with a smirk. “You don’t scare me. But how about a compromise.”

She digs a pen out of her bag and holds Daisy’s arm still while she scrawls her number on the back of her hand.

“Call me in the morning if you remember this conversation,” she says, helping the girl unlock the side door of the van. “And not just if you want to get drunk together again.”

In the light of the car’s interior, Melinda can see that all the seats have been removed from the back and the space cluttered with clothes, crates, and electronic equipment, all forming a kind of nest around a thin air mattress on the floor.

_Yep, definitely not big enough for two._

Daisy sits on the running board to slip off her shoes and toss them up in front of the driver’s seat, then climbs into the cramped space behind her.

“Thanks for the lift, Melinda,” she says smiling at her in the half-light. “How about I call you in a half hour to make sure you got home safe?”

“If you haven’t passed out by then,” Melinda says, reaching in to pat the girl’s cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

Daisy catches her hand and kisses her wrist before letting her go.

“Sweet dreams to you too, Melinda.”


End file.
